No One Told Me Youth Ministry Would Be This Rewarding

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On August 26, 2015

In Other

Youth Ministry is filled with lots of, um, drama.  We loved our students, but there were many nights Gil and I would stay awake fretting over their poor decisions or self-destructive behavior.  And that’s not even counting for what we would basically call….immaturity.  

Sometimes we wondered if anything we said was making a difference.  Our whole hearts were poured into these kids, and yet often I thought they really just showed up for the caramel popcorn.  

Like anything worth waiting for, we just had to be patient.  Our years of youth ministry are over, but we are just now getting the privilege of seeing the fruit.  This summer was great evidence of that.  So many of our former students were in Tanzania this summer, many of them visiting their families, but others coming back on their own, pilgrimages to the country where they grew up.  

And the cool thing is that they looked us up.  We want to see you!  They said.  Sweeter words are never heard to a youth minister’s heart.  They wanted to see us!  

They are adults now, all grown up, yet full of that infectious excitement of youth adulthood.  Succeeding in school, getting advanced degrees, earning awards.  But more importantly, caring about people, passionate for Africa, following Jesus.  

There were so many here this summer that we didn’t even get to spend time with them all.  If that was you….we still love you!  Come see us next time!

Cecilie and her friend introduced us to the Danish tradition of making a birthday cake to look like the child….and then making the first cut at the neck while everyone screams.  Obviously a good way to keep Danish psychiatrists in business.

McKenna was an intern with us for six weeks this summer.  She wasn’t one of our HOPAC students, but she was one of our flower girls when she was 3, so she falls in the same category!  

I Want a Daddy Too.

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On August 24, 2015

In Adoption

This is George.  George is almost six years old, and has been at Forever Angels since he was a newborn.  

When Gil and I went to Forever Angels to pick up Johnny last week, Gil told me about a conversation he had with George.  

Why did you choose Johnny?  George asked Gil.  What did Johnny do to make you choose him?  I want a Daddy too.

Oh, Child.  Rip my heart out of my chest.  And then jab a knife into it.

How do you possibly answer that question?



Well, George, we were looking for a child who is younger than you.  It just sounds lame.

What did Johnny do to make you choose him?  From our first trip up to Forever Angels, it was obvious that George was doing everything possible to get chosen.  He tries hard to be happy and charming, all the time.  He smiles fetchingly.  He poses for the camera.  He wants to be the first to hug you.  He gives kisses to strangers.

When we were saying our good-byes, in the midst of the din of dozens of noisy children, George whispered to me, I want to go too.  

Just go ahead and twist that knife.

Forever Angels is only licensed for kids up to age 5.  So just this week, George is being transferred to a long-term orphanage.  A sponsor is paying for his school fees, so he will get to go to school.  He tries to be excited about this.

But it’s still an orphanage, not a family.  And George knows there is a difference.

I know that not everyone is called to adopt.  There are many good reasons not to adopt, and I would never encourage anyone to go into it out of guilt.  Because let me assure you–adoption is tough, especially with older children.  It’s a arduous process to bring home a child, and then it’s even more arduous to help that child adapt to your family.

I know not everyone is called to adopt.  But there needs to be more who are.  I don’t know if it’s you; I don’t have anyone specific in mind while I am writing this.  But there needs to be more who are.  

There are thousands, millions of Georges out there.  There are about 30,000 children in the United States alone who “age out” of the foster care system every year.  That’s 30,000 children each year who turn 18 and have no one.

In a country that is one of the richest, most Christian in the world, this should not be.  Among churches who are exhorted to care for the fatherless, this should not be.  Among people who say they are pro-life, This Should Not Be.  

Unless you live in Tanzania, there’s not much you can do to help George get a family.  But remember that there are thousands of others out there who, if given the chance, would look you in the eye and say,

I want a Daddy too.



How will you respond?

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans…in their distress.  James 1:27

Update on 4/21/19: Tragically, we received word that on Easter Sunday, George suddenly passed away. George was living at a Christian orphanage where he was loved and cherished, but he never did get a Daddy. May his story inspire many others to consider fostering or adoption. 

What We Missed

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On August 22, 2015

In Other

We missed out on a lot of years, but Forever Angels volunteers took dozens of pictures.  We get to recreate Johnny’s history for him, and as any adoptive family knows, that is priceless.  

Thank You For Loving My Son

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On August 20, 2015

In Adoption

We missed out on three years and 10 months.  

He’s ours now.  But until then, you loved him.  

You changed his diapers; you washed his diapers–by hand.  You gave him baths twice a day; You fed him healthy meals.  You cuddled him and gave him good night kisses.  You potty trained him and changed his sheets every day.  You chased him and made him laugh.  You taught him his numbers and the names of all the animals.  You gave him bubbles and glitter and paper mache.   You gave him your lap and you let him get his snot all over you.  

He was missing a family, but you gave him everything else possible while he waited.  His life was full of enriching experiences.  He is healthy and strong.  

How can I possibly thank you?  How could I ever repay you?  You loved him like he was your own, and then you loved him enough to give him to me.  

Thank you, Amy Hathaway, for running the best orphanage in Tanzania.  Thank you for saving the lives of so many children.  Thank you for giving them the best start possible, but also not being satisfied with what you could give them.  Thank you for doing everything you can to get them back into their biological families or find them new ones.  

Thank for to all the Mamas who dearly loved and cared for my son in thousands of ways.  Thank you to all the foreign volunteers who keep coming to Forever Angels for long and short times and love and sacrifice for the children there.  There were hundreds of people who loved my son before I did.  I will always be grateful for you.

Lillian, a manager at Forever Angels, with Lily, her namesake!  

If you’re looking for a worthy cause to donate to, consider Forever Angels (password to see the children is Tanzania).  It is a truly excellent orphanage, which first and foremost seeks for family reunification.  When that doesn’t happen, they look hard for good placements for their children.  I trust them completely.

Forever Angels also has an excellent and organized volunteer program.  I would recommend it for any young (or old!) person who desires to work at an orphanage.

One Less Orphan

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On August 19, 2015

In Adoption

Monday, August 17th

Mwanza is 700 miles away in northern Tanzania, on the shores of Lake Victoria.  Gil, Lily, and I flew up in the afternoon.  Lily got to come because we were going to Forever Angels, My Orphanage, as Lily describes it.  She was two when she left.  She had no memory of it, so we aimed to fix that.  

We arrived at Forever Angels at 6:00 pm.  Hannah, one of the longer-term volunteers, was sitting outside with Johnny when we arrived.  She told us later that he had been so excited all day, eagerly telling anyone who would listen that he was getting a mama and baba, and would be going on the airplane.  

But when the longed-for moment came, he shrank inside himself.  He knew how to relate to us when we were just ordinary visitors–because he had seen a lot of those.  But a mama and baba?  No clue.  I crept up to him and sat with him on the couch, where he was clutching the picture of us that he had examined for the past two weeks.  

Since it was dinner time, the plan was to go to a restaurant together with Hannah and Georgie, volunteers that Johnny knew and loved well.  He let me hold him in the taxi, but during dinner, he stuck with Hannah.  His big eyes kept a worry crease, but usually we could get him to laugh.  

Tuesday, August 18th

We hung out in the Baby Home, which is not known for peace or quiet.  The children barrage any friendly face–or even not-so-friendly–the moment you step in the door.  If you’ve got an arm or a lap free–or part of a lap–they want in on it.  As far as they were concerned, even Lily was big enough to be fair game.  

When we went outside, we discovered Johnny was hiding behind a playhouse, which we were told he does often.  He let me hold him, but mostly he kept his distance.  I caught him solemnly watching us from across the garden.

At lunch time, we decided to take Johnny out with just us, to practice for that evening’s departure.  We ate at a deserted hotel down the road, where it was just our family.  We pushed on the swings and we played hide and seek, and Johnny was won over.  For a while, the worry line disappeared and the smile emerged.  I repeated to him what I had been saying all day.  Will you come on the airplane with us?  Will you come to our house?  Finally, instead of stoic eyes, I got tiny nods.  

Then we went to the social welfare office to make everything official.  

In the evening, we took Johnny back into the Baby Home to say goodbye.  The children mobbed him.  Kwa Heri, Johnny!  Good-bye, Johnny!  Hugs, kisses.

I couldn’t hold back the tears.  

Because so many had loved him.

Because the loss in his life is real.

Because there were so many others left behind.

He was so brave.  He took my hand, a total stranger, and walked off from the place he loved.  So much trust in one little three-year-old boy.  

He fought sleep for hours, taking in dozens of new sights and experiences.  He finally succumbed in the plane, and we got to our home in Dar es Salaam at midnight.

Wednesday, August 19–today

He met Grace and Josiah today, and as I write, he is sleeping after his first full day at home.  More about that later.  But for now, I just want to celebrate that there is one less orphan in the world, and that there are four children in my house, and that they are mine.

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